LIBRARY 

OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA. 


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POETRY,  WITH  REFERENCE  TO 
ARISTOTLE'S   POETICS 


EDITED 

WITH  INTRODUCTION  AND  NOTES 
BY 

ALBERT    S.    COOK 

PROFESSOR  OF  THE  ENGLISH  LANGUAGE  AND  LITERATURE 
IN  YALE   UNIVERSITY 


BOSTON,  U.S.A. 

PUBLISHED  BY  GINN   &   COMPANY 
1891 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1891, 

BY  ALBERT  S.  COOK, 
in  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED. 


TYPOGRAPHY  BY  J.  S.  GUSHING  &  Co.,  BOSTON,  U.S.A. 
PRESSWORK  BY  GINN  &  Co.,  BOSTON,  U.S.A. 


s 

INTRODUCTION. 


NEWMAN'S  essay  challenges  the  attention  of  students 
of  English  on  three  several  grounds.  The  first  is  his 
eminence  as  a  stylist,  the  second  his  attempt  to  deter- 
mine fundamental  poetic  principles,  and  the  third  his 
inclusion  of  ancient  and  modern  writers  in  a  single  view. 

Newman  is  justly  celebrated  as  a  master  of  lucid, 
copious,  straightforward,  vigorous  prose.  The  simple 
manliness  of  his  more  popular  writing  contrasts  favor- 
ably with  the  affectation  and  caprice  of  many  of  his 
contemporaries,  and  its  qualities  will  never  grow  old, 
whatever  may  be  the  judgment  of  posterity  on  some  of 
its  author's  opinions.  Newman's  mind  was  nourished 
by  liberal  studies,  and  from  those  studies  he  extracted 
the  kernel  of  substance,  not  contenting  himself  with 
the  husk  of  accident.  From  his  acquaintance  with 
language  and  literature  he  gained  the  ideas  of  a  prince 
among  men,  as  well  as  the  accuracy  of  a  grammarian. 
The  breathing  thoughts  and  burning  words  with  which 
he  became  familiar,  at  once  quickened  his  intelligence 
and  enlarged  its  sphere,  so  that  he  became  capable  of 
reasoning  both  amply  and  subtly.  His  convictions, 
whether  acceptable  to  others  or  not,  and  though  subject 
to  change  for  what  he  esteemed  sufficient  cause,  were 
at  all  events  based  upon  inquiry  and  meditation  ;  they 
were  not  the  mere  rags  and  shreds  of  others'  thought, 


iv  Introduction, 

caught  up  and  worn  at  secondhand.  His  definition  of 
originality,  on  page  22  of  the  present  essay,  might  have 
been  framed  from  an  inspection  of  the  workings  of  his 
own  mind.  Conviction  gives  birth  to  decision,  a  striking 
quality  of  his  prose,  and  it  generates  the  power  of 
arrangement,  which  he  discusses  on  pages  26  and  27. 
In  fact,  his  prose  casts  over  the  reader  the  spell  exerted 
by  the  excellent  novelist  or  poet.  The  mind  is  gently, 
yet  firmly,  directed  into  certain  channels,  and  made  to 
follow  the  course  marked  out  for  it.  For  the  time  being, 
one  feels  himself  in  the  hands  of  a  strong  yet  reason- 
able and  beneficent  master,  and  has  neither  the  energy 
nor  the  desire  to  resist  his  will.  It  is  sufficient  that 
the  superior  mind  is  aware  of  the  goal  toward  which 
our  footsteps  are  guided. 

There  are  some,  who,  after  repeated  examination  of 
Newman's  thought,  will  doubt  its  sufficiency,  yet  even 
they  can  not  resist  the  impression  produced  by  its  orderly 
development.  It  is  the  province  of  all  art  to  cheat  us 
with  gradation.  The  highest  altitude  of  a  bas-relief 
may  be  only  some  insignificant  fraction  of  an  inch,  yet 
the  spectator  will  persuade  himself  that  he  sees  in  it  the 
natural  proportions  of  a  whole  group  of  human  forms. 
The  setting  sun  of  a  landscape  piece  may  be  actually 
represented  by  an  opaque,  dull  yellow,  yet  appear  to 
glow  with  the  whitest  of  dazzling  light.  The  novelist's 
climax  may  be  an  insignificant  event,  which  in  real  life 
would  be  passed  by  without  remark,  yet  we  shall  be 
excited  to  the  uttermost  as  we  approach  and  reach  it. 
Gradation  deceives  us  with  the  semblance  of  wholes,  of 
adequacy,  of  truth,  of  singular  importance.  Newman 
is  aware  of  this,  as  he  explicitly  avers,  and  few  modern 


Introduction.  v 

writers  have  made  a  more  effective  use  of  the  principle. 
He  masses  and  groups  particulars,  the  individual  signifi- 
cance of  which  we  can  not  help  confessing,  with  refer- 
ence to  a  generalization  which  seems  to  follow  of  itself, 
unaided  by  effort  on  our  part  or  his.  Link  by  link  the 
chain  of  his  logic  is  wound  about  us,  and  before  we 
know  it  we  are  bound  hand  and  foot  in  a  bondage  so 
pleasing  that  we  almost  prefer  it  to  liberty.  Whether 
he  deliver  an  address,  conduct  an  argument,  or  relate 
a  story,  the  result  always  seems  predestined ;  easily, 
insensibly,  yet  inevitably,  the  reader  feels  himself  im- 
pelled toward  a  foregone  conclusion. 

Other  marks  of  Newman's  style  there  doubtless  are, 
such  as  the  absence  of  remote  and  passing  allusion ; 
the  sparing,  but  convincing,  use  of  simile,  of  which 
there  is  an  example  on  page  4 ;  its  stately  harmony  ;  the 
mastery  of  language  which  he  himself  recommends,  so 
that  speech  becomes  the  most  diaphanous  of  veils,  or 
rather  like  that  clear  light  in  which  ^Eneas  shone,  when 
the  enshrouding  mist  was  parted  and  resolved  itself  into 
the  colors  of  the  sky.  But  it  is  no  part  of  my  purpose 
to  write  an  essay  on  Newman's  style;  it  is  sufficient  to 
feel  assured  that  it  represents  something  more  than 
verbal  jugglery,  that  it  stands  for  art  in  a  larger  sense, 
that  it  embodies  the  features  of  a  personality  rather 
than  the  mere  dexterities  of  rhetorical  craftsmanship. 

A  second  claim  upon  our  attention  arises  from  his 
inquiry  into  the  principles  which  underlie  great  poetry. 
It  is  scarcely  too  much  to  say  that  the  best  poetry  has 
been  produced  at  epochs  when  these  principles  were 
well  understood,  and  that  they  can  only  be  perfectly 
understood  in  epochs  which  are  capable  of  producing 


vi  Introduction. 

the  best  poetry.  The  fact,  therefore,  that  there  is  at 
present  a  growing  interest  in  the  investigation  of  the 
canons  of  poetic  art  is  at  once  an  augury  rich  with  hope, 
and  a  monition  to  which  the  promptest  and  most  cheer- 
ful obedience  should  be  rendered. 

The  third  reason  is  to  be  found  in  the  catholicity  of 
Newman's  knowledge  and  taste.  He  is  not  the  partisan 
of  a  school  or  clique.  He  can  admire  a  scientist  like 
Aristotle,  or  tragedians  like  the  immortal  three  of 
Greece.  Sophocles  does  not  blind  him  to  the  merits 
of  Euripides,  nor  yet  of  Shakespeare.  In  one  breath  he 
couples  Scott  and  Crabbe,  in  another  Scott  and  Homer, 
and  in  still  another,  this  time  for  purposes  of  censure, 
Scott  and  Cowper.  For  a  certain  trait  he  extols  Bernard 
Barton,  for  another  he  criticises  Virgil.  One  who  is 
acquainted  with  so  wide  a  range  of  poetry,  if  he  be,  like 
Newman,  a  person  of  fine  discernment,  sound  intuitions, 
and  correct  principles  of  reasoning,  may  render  inestim- 
able service  to  the  student  at  almost  any  stage  of  his 
progress.  To  the  beginner  he  offers  a  method,  and  to 
the  more  advanced  inquirer  a  means  of  rectifying  partial 
or  erroneous  views ;  to  all  a  stimulus  to  independent 
reading  and  reflection.  It  is  impossible  to  contrast  and 
endeavor  to  harmonize  productions  of  widely  sundered 
ages  and  nationalities,  yet  of  the  same  general  design 
and  character,  without  winning  in  the  pursuit  some  of 
the  most  precious  rewards  which  culture  has  it  in  her 
power  to  bestow. 

To  yield  the  most  satisfactory  results,  the  opinions  of 
Newman  should  be  compared  with  those  of  other  writers 
on  the  same  subject,  with  those  of  Aristotle  himself,  of 
Plato,  and  of  derivative  writers  like  Sidney  and  Shelley. 


Introduction.  vii 

But  it  is  quite  as  desirable  to  attempt  a  verification  of 
his  judgments  by  an  examination  of  the  authors  whom 
he  cites.  A  useful  auxiliary  in  the  study  of  the  Greek 
tragedians  will  be  found  in  Moulton's  Ancient  Classical 
Drama,  which  contains  a  list  of  available  translations ; 
with  Moulton's  suggestive  book  may  be  compared 
Schlegel's  Lectures  on  Dramatic  Art  and  Literature. 
Translations  of  the  complete  plays  of  ^Eschylus,  Sopho- 
cles, and  Euripides  may  now  be  had  in  Morley's  Uni- 
versal Library  (published  by  Routledge  &  Sons,  London 
and  New  York,  at  a  shilling  a  volume) ;  ^Eschylus 
and  Sophocles  are  each  contained  in  a  single  volume, 
Euripides  in  three.  No  other  English  translation  of 
Euripides  is  accessible ;  better  ones  of  ^Eschylus  and 
Sophocles  are  by  Plumptre  (published  by  Isbister, 
London,  at  seven  shillings  sixpence  and  four  shillings 
sixpence  respectively).  Mrs.  Browning  has  a  poetical 
rendering  of  the  Prometheus  Bound  of  ^Eschylus,  and 
Robert  Browning  of  the  Alcestis  of  Euripides,  the  latter 
under  the  title  of  Balaustions  Adventure.  The  Iliad 
may  be  had  in  the  prose  translation  of  Lang,  Leaf,  and 
Myers  (Macmillan),  the  Odyssey  in  that  of  Butcher  and 
Lang  (Macmillan)  or  of  Palmer  (Houghton,  Mifflin  & 
Co.) ;  besides  these,  the  poetical  translation  of  both 
epics  by  Bryant  (Houghton,  Mifflin  &  Co.,  each  volume 
$2.50),  and  that  of  the  Odyssey  by  Worsley  (Blackwood, 
Edinburgh  and  London,  twelve  shillings)  are  to  be  recom- 
mended. There  is  an  English  translation  of  Aristotle's 
Poetics  by  Wharton,  with  the  Greek  on  opposite  pages 
(Parker,  Oxford  and  London,  two  shillings  and  sixpence), 
and  one  by  Twining  in  Cassell's  National  Library,  with- 
out the  Greek,  but  in  the  same  volume  with  Longinus 


viii  Introduction. 

On  the  Sublime,  for  ten  cents.  With  the  works  men- 
tioned, and  the  English  authors  referred  to  by  Newman, 
a  teacher  of  literature  ought  to  have  no  difficulty  in 
framing  an  attractive  and  profitable  course  in  poetry 
and  imaginative  writing ;  nor  would  it  be  time  thrown 
away  to  read  the  essay  of  Newman  by  itself. 


• 

ANALYSIS. 


Announcement  of  subject,  1  1-3. 

I.  Whether  plot  is  of  chief  importance  in  tragedy,  1  4—9  23. 

A.  The  Greek  tragedies  do  not  confirm  Aristotle's  theory  of  plot,  1  4— 

83. 

I.  Illustration  from  the  Agamemnon  of  /Eschylus,  the  CEdipus 
Tyrannus  of  Sophocles,  and  the  Bacchce  of  Euripides, 
5  8-8  3. 

B.  Discussion  of  Aristotle's  error,  S  4—9  23,  and  transition  to  next  head 

9  24-8. 

II.  Poetry  a  representation  of  the  ideal,  9  29—21  25. 

A.  Beauty  and  perfection  the  standard  of  poetry,  9  29—12  27. 

1.  This  differentiates  poetry  from  history  and  biography,  9  29— 

1027. 

2.  For  the  same  reason  it  naturally  allies  itself  with  metaphor  and 

music,  10  28—11  20. 

3.  Portions  of  otherwise  great  poems  may  be  unpoetical,  11  21— 

1227. 

B.  Poetic    idealization    considered    with    reference   to    its  subjects, 

12  28-21  25. 

1.  Description  idealized,  12  29—13  32. 

a.  Description   unidealized  :    Empedocles,   Oppian,  Thom- 

son (?),  12  29—13  12. 

b.  Description  properly  idealized  :  Milton,  13  12-20. 

c.  Description  over-idealized  :  Virgil  and  Pope,  13  20-28. 

2.  Narrative  idealized,  14  1—15  8. 

a.  Narrative     unidealized  :     Horace    Smith's    Brambletye 

House ;  and   idealized  :  Scott's  Peveril  of  the  Peak, 
14  21-28. 

b.  Anomalous  experiences  unavailable  for  poetry,  14  28—15  8. 

ix 


x  Analysis. 

3.  Character  idealized,  15  9—17  27. 

a.  Circumstances  under  which  idealization  is  unnecessary, 

15  30-16  11. 

b.  Idealization  consistent  with  individualization,  16  12-23. 

c.  And  with  the  introduction  of  imperfect  or  odious  char- 

acters, 16  23—17  6. 

d.  The  satisfaction  of   poetic  justice  may  be  referred  to  a 

future  life,  17  6-26. 

4.  Opinions,  feelings,  manners,  and  customs  idealized,  17  28—19  24. 

a.  Especially  in  the  ode,  elegy,  sonnet,  and  ballad,  17  30— 

1816. 

b.  But  also  in  didactic  and  moralizing  poems,  18  17—19  24. 

aa.  But  declamation  and  poetry  are  here  often  con- 
founded, though  directly  opposite  in  nature, 
18  21—19  24. 

5.  The  philosophy  of  mind  idealized,  19  25—21  25. 

a.  Delicate  characterization  in  Crabbe  and  Scott,  20  4—21  1. 

b.  Lack  of  it  in  Byron,  21  1-22. 

III.  Relation  of  originality  to  poetic  talent,  21  27—25  19. 

A.  Poetic  talent  the  originality  of  right  moral  feeling,  22  1-3. 

B.  Definition  of  originality,  22  4-18. 

C.  Poetry  the  originality  of  grace,  refinement,  purity,  and  good  feel- 

ing, 22  18-29. 

1.  Whether  this  doctrine  is  confirmed  by  experience,  22  30—23  24. 

2.  Poets  who  exhibit  correct  moral  perception,  23  24—24  1. 

3.  Some  who  are  deficient  in  it,  24  1-24. 

D.  The  poetry  in  religion,  24  25-25  19. 

IV.  Poetical  composition,  25  20—28  19. 

A.  The  art  of  composition  merely  accessory  to  the  poetical  talent, 

25  21-22. 

B.  Causes  of  obscurity  in  poetical  writings,  25  24—26  9. 

C.  Poetical  eloquence,  26  10—27  16. 

1.  Power  of  illustration,  26  14-20. 

2.  Power  of  arrangement,  26  20—27  4. 

3.  Command  of  language,  27  4-16. 

D.  Attention  to  language  for  its  own  sake  to  be  deprecated,  27  17-31. 

E.  Examples  of  adequacy,  inadequacy,  and  affectation  of  style,  27  32— 

2819. 

V.  Note  on  the  definition  of  poetry  :  Poetry  the  gift  of  moving  the  affec- 

tions through  the  imagination,  and  its  object  the  beautiful,  29. 


n  U  JV  «  Y  &  *v 

- 


POETRY,  WITH    REFERENCE    TO 
ARISTOTLE'S    POETICS. 


WE  propose  to  offer  some  speculations  of  our  own  * 
on  Greek  Tragedy,  and  on  Poetry  in  general,  as 
.suggested  by  the  doctrine  of  Aristotle  on  the  subject. 

I. 

Aristotle   considers  the  excellence,  of   a  tragedy  to 
•depend  upon  its  plot  —  and,  since  a  tragedy,  as  such,  is  5 
obviously  the  exhibition  of  an  action,  no  one  can  deny 
his  statement  to  be  abstractedly  true.     Accordingly  he 
directs  his  principal  attention  to  the  economy  of  the 
fable ;  determines  its  range  of  subjects,  delineates  its 
proportions,  traces  its  progress  from  a  complication  of  10 
incidents  to  their  just  and  satisfactory  settlement,  in- 
vestigates the  means  of  making  a  train  of  events  striking 
or  affecting,  and  shows  how  the  exhibition  of  character 
may  be  made  subservient  to  the  purpose  of  the  action. 
His  treatise  is  throughout  interesting  and  valuable.     It  15 
Is  one  thing,  however,  to  form  the  beau  ideal  of  a  tragedy 
on  scientific  principles ;  another  to  point  out  the  actual 
beauty  of  a  particular  school  of  dramatic  composition. 
The  Greek  tragedians  are  not  generally  felicitous  in  the 
construction  of  their  plots.     Aristotle,  then,  rather  tells  (20 
us  what  Tragedy  should  be,  than  what  Greek  Tragedy  \ 


2         Poetry,  with  reference  to  Aristotle  s  Poetics. 

\really  was.     And  this  doubtless  was  the  intention  of  the 

philosopher.      Since,   however,   the    Greek   drama   has 

obtained  so  extended  and  lasting  a  celebrity,  and  yet 

jits  excellence  does  not  fall  under  the  strict  rules  of  the 

5  [critical  art,  we  have  to  inquire  in  what  it  consists. 

That  the  charm  of  Greek  Tragedy  does  not  ordinarily 
arise  from  scientific  correctness  of  plot,  is  certain  as  a 
matter  of  fact.  Seldom  does  any  great  interest  arise 
from  the  action  ;  which,  instead  of  being  progressive  and 

10  sustained,  is  commonly  either  a  mere  necessary  condition 
of  the  drama,  or  a  convenience  for  the  introduction  of 
matter  more  important  than  itself.  It  is  often  stationary 
—  often  irregular^—  sometimes  either  wants  or  outlives 
the  catastrophex  In  the  plays  of  ^Eschylus  it  is  always 

15  simple  and  inartificial ;  in  four  out  of  the  seven  there  is 
hardly  any  plot  at  all ;  and  though  it  is  of  more  prom- 
inent importance  in  those  of  Sophocles,  yet  even  here 
the  QEdipus  at  Colonus  is  a  mere  series  of  incidents,  and 
the  Ajax  a  union  of  two  separate  subjects  ;  while  in  the 

20  Philoctetes,  which  is  apparently  busy,  the  circumstances 
of  the  action  are  but  slightly  connected  with  the  ctinone- 
ment.  The  carelessness  of  Euripides  in  the  construc- 
tion of  his  plots  is  well  known.  The  action  then  will 
be  more  justly  viewed  as  the  vehicle  for  introducing  the 

25  personages  of  the  drama,  than  as  the  principal  object  of 
the  poet's  art ;  it  is  not  in  the  plot,  but  in  the  charac- 
ters, sentiments,  and  diction,  that  the  actual  merit  and 
poetry  of  the  composition  are  found.  To  show  this  to 
the  satfsfaction  of  the  readel"  would  require  a  minuter 

3°  investigation  of  details  than  our  present  purpose  admits ; 
yet  a  few  instances  in  point  may  suggest  others  to  the 
memory. 


Poetry,  with  reference  to  Aristotle  s  Poetics.         3 

For  instance,  in  neither  the  QEdipus  Coloneus  nor  the  •«•*•*-- f^*-- 
Philoctetes,  the  two  most  beautiful  plays  of  Sophocles, 
is  the  plot  striking ;  but  how  exquisite  is  the  delineation 
of  the  characters  of  Antigone  and  CEdipus,  in  the  f ormer  c^*x'*t'     s- 
tragedy,  particularly  in  their  interview  with  Polynices,  5 
and  the  various  descriptions  of  the  scene  itself  which 
the  Chorus  furnishes !     In  the  Philoctetes,  again,  it  is 
the  contrast  between  the  worldly  wisdomj)f  Ulysses,  the  ^*r*r*»*t*^ 
inexperienced  toikiisss^jQi-^^^optolemus,  and  the  sim- 
plicity-Qf  the  afflicted_JEhiloctetes,  which  constitutes  the  10 
principal  charmjof  the  drama.     Or  we  may  instance  the 
spirit  and  nature  displayed  in  the  grouping  of  the  char- 
acters in  the  Prometheus,  which  is  almost  without  ac- 
tion ;  the  stubborn  enemy  of  the  new  dynasty  of  gods  ; 
Oceanus  trimming,  as  an  accomplished  politician,  with  15 
the  change  of  affairs ;  the  single-hearted  and  generous 
Nereids ;  and  Hermes,  the  favorite  and  instrument  of 
the  usurping  potentate.     So  again,  the  beauties  of  the 
Thebae  are  almost  independent  of   the  plot ;   it  is  the 
Chorus  which  imparts  grace  and  interest  to  the  action-  20 
less  scene;  and  the  speech  of  Antigone  at  the  end,  one 
of  the  most  simply  striking  in  any  play,  has,  scientifi- 
cally speaking,  no  place  in  the  tragedy,  which  should 
already  have   been  brought  to  its  conclusion.      Then 
again,  amid  the  multitude  of  the  beauties  of  the  irreg-  25 
ular  Euripides,  it  would  be  obvious  to  notice  the  char- 
acter of  Alcestis,  and  of  Clytemnestra  in  the  Electra ; 
the  soliloquies  of  Medea ;  the  picturesque  situation  of 
Ion,  the  minister  of  the  Pythian  temple ;  the  opening 
scene  of  the  Orestes  ;  and  the  dialogues  between  Phaedra  3° 
and  her  attendant  in  the  Hippolytus,  and  the  old  man 
and  Antigone  in  the  Phcenissae  ;  —  passages  nevertheless 


4         Poetry,  with  reference  to  Aristotle  s  Poetics. 

which  are  either  unconnected  with  the  development  of 
the  plot,  or  of  an  importance  superior  to  it. 

Thus  the  Greek  drama,  as  a  fact,  was  modeled  on  no- 
scientific  principle.     It_was  a  pure  recreation  of  the 

5  imagination,  reveling  without  object  or  meaning  beyond 
its  own  exhibition.  Gods,  heroes,  kings,  and  dames, 
enter  and  retire  :  they  may  have  a  good  reason  for 
appearing,  —  they  may  have  a  very  poor  one  ;  whatever 
it  is,  still  we  have  no  right  to  ask  for  it ;  the  question  is 

10  impertinent.  Let  us  listen  to  their  harmonious  and 
majestic  language,  to  the  voices  of  sorrow,  joy,  com- 
passion, or  religious  emotion,  —  to  the  animated  odes  of 
the  chorus.  Why  interrupt  so  transcendent  a  display 
of  poetical  genius  by  inquiries  degrading  it  to  the  level 

15  of  every-day  events,  and  implying  incompleteness  in  the 
action  till  a  catastrophe  arrives?  The  very  spirit  of 
beauty  breathes  through  every  part  of  the  composition. 
We  may  liken  the  Greek  drama  to  the  music  of  the 
Italian  school ;  in  which  the  wonder  is,  how  so  much 

20  richness  of  invention  in  detail  can  be  accommodated  to* 
a  style  so  simple  and  uniform.  Each  is  the  develop- 
ment of  grace,  fancy,  pathos,  and  taste,  in  the  respective 
media  of  representation  and  sound. 

However  true  then  it  may  be  that  one  or  two  of  the 

25  most  celebrated  dramas  answer  to  the  requisitions  of 
Aristotle's  doctrine,  still,  for  the  most  part,  Greekl 
Tragedy  has  its  own  distinct  and  peculiar  praise,  which 
must  not  be  lessened  by  a  criticism  conducted  on  prin- 
ciples, whether  correct  or  not,  still  leading  to  excellence 

30  of  another  character.  This  being  as  we  hope  shown,  we 
shall  be  still  bolder,  and  proceed  to  question  even  the 
sufficiency  of  the  rules  of  Aristotle  for  the  production 


Poetry,  with  reference  to  Aristotle  s  Poetics.         5 

of  dramas  of  the  highest  order.  These  rules,  it  would 
appear,  require  a  fable  not  merely  natural  and  unaffected, 
as  a  vehicle  of  more  poetical  matter,  but  one  labored 
and  complicated,  as  the  sole  legitimate  channel  of  tragic 
effect ;  and  thus  tend  to  withdraw  the  mind  of  the  poet  5. 
from  the  spontaneous  exhibition  of  pathos  or  imagination 
to  a  minute  diligence  in  the  formation  of  a  plot. 


2. 

To  explain  our  views  on  the  subject,  we  will  institut< 
a  short  comparison  between  three  tragedies,  the  A 
me_mjQX>n,  the  CEdipus,  and  the  JBacchae,  one  of  each  oi 
the  tragic  poets,  as  to  which,  by  reference  to  Aristotle's 
principles,  we  think  it  will  be  found  that  the  most  per- 
fect in  plot  is  not  the  most  poetical. 

1.  Of  these,  the  action  of  the  QEdipus  Tyrannus  is 
frequently  instanced  by  the  critic  as  a  specimen  of  judg-  i> 
ment  and  skill  in  the  selection  and  combination  of  the 
incidents  ;  and  in  this  point  of  view  it  is  truly  a  masterly 
composition.      The  clearness,  precision,  certainty,  and 
vigor  with  which  the  line  of  the  action  moves  on  to  its 
termination  is  admirable.      The  character  of   QEdipus,  20 
too,  is  finely  drawn,  and  identified  with  the  development 

of  the  action. 

2.  The  Agamemnon  of  ^Eschylus  presents  us  with 
the  slow  and  difficult  birth  of  a  portentous  secret  —  an 
event  of  old  written  in  the  resolves  of  destiny,  a  crime  25, 
long  meditated  in  the  bosom  of  the  human  agents.    The 
Chorus  here  has  an  importance  altogether  wanting  in 
the  Chorus  of  the  CEdipus.     They  throw  a  pall  of  an- 
cestral honor  over  the  bier  of  the  hereditary  monarch,. 


6         Poetry,  with  reference  to  Aristotle  s  Poetics. 

which  would  have  been  unbecoming  in  the  case  of  the 
upstart  king  of  Thebes.  Till  the  arrival  of  Agamem- 
non they  occupy  our  attention,  as  the  prophetic  organ, 
not  commissioned  indeed,  but  employed  by  heaven,  to 
5  proclaim  the  impending  horrors.  Succeeding  to  the 
brief  intimation  of  the  watcher  who  opens  the  play,  they 
seem  oppressed  with  forebodings  of  woe  and  crime  which 
they  can  neither  justify  nor  analyze.  The  expression  of 
their  anxiety  forms  the  stream  in  which  the  plot  flows 

TO  — everything,  even  news  of  joy,  takes  a  coloring  from 
the  depth  of  their  gloom.  On  the  arrival  of  the  king, 
they  retire  before  Cassandra,  a  more  regularly  commis- 
sioned prophetess  ;  who,  speaking  first  in  figure,  then  in 
plain  terms,  only  ceases  that  we  may  hear  the  voice  of 

15  the  betrayed  monarch  himself,  informing  us  of  the  strik- 
ing of  the  fatal  blow.  Here,  then,  the  very  simplicity 
of  the  fable  constitutes  its  especial  beauty.  The  death 
of  Agamemnon  is  intimated  at  first  —  it  is  accomplished 
at  last ;  throughout  we  find  but  the  growing  in  volume 

20  and  intensity  of  one  and  the  same  note  —  it  is  a  work- 
ing up  of  one  musical  ground,  by  figure  and  imitation, 
into  the  richness  of  combined  harmony.  But  we  look 
in  vain  for  the  progressive  and  thickening  incidents  of 
the  CEdipus. 

25  3.  The  action  of  the  Bacchae  is  also  simple.  It  is  the 
history  of  the  reception  of  the  worship  of  Bacchus  in 
Thebes ;  who,  first  depriving  Pentheus  of  his  reason, 
and  thereby  drawing  him  on  to  his  ruin,  reveals  his  own 
divinity.  The  interest  of  the  scene  arises  from  the 

3°  gradual  process  by  which  the  derangement  of  the  The- 
ban  king  is  effected,  which  is  powerfully  and  originally 
described.  It  would  be  comic,  were  it  unconnected  with 


Poetry,  with  reference  to  Aristotle  s  Poetics.         7 

religion.  As  it  is,  it  exhibits  the  grave  irony  of  a  god 
triumphing  over  the  impotent  presumption  of  man,  the 
sport  and  terrible  mischievousness  of  an  insulted  deity. 
It  is  an  exemplification  of  the  adage,  "  Quern  deus  vult 
perdere,  prius  dementat."  So  delicately  balanced  is  the  5 
action  along  the  verge  of  the  sublime  and  grotesque, 
that  it  is  both  solemn  and  humorous,  without  violence 
to  the  propriety  of  the  composition  :  the  mad  fire  of  the 
Chorus,  the  imbecile  mirth  of  old  Cadmus  and  Tiresias, 
and  the  infatuation  of  Pentheus,  who  is  ultimately  in-  10 
duced  to  dress  himself  in  female  garb  to  gain  admit- 
tance among  the  Bacchae,  are  made  to  harmonize  with 
the  terrible  catastrophe  which  concludes  the  life  of  the 
intruder.  Perhaps  the  victim's  first  discovery  of  the 
disguised  deity  is  the  finest  conception  in  this  splendid  15 
drama.  His  madness  enables  him  to  discern  the  em- 
blematic horns  on  the  head  of  Bacchus,  which  were  hid 
from  him  when  in  his  sound  mind ;  yet  this  discovery, 
instead  of  leading  him  to  an  acknowledgment  of  the 
divinity,  provides  him  only  with  matter  for  a  stupid  and  20 
perplexed  astonishment : 

A  Bull,  thou  seem'st  to  lead  us ;  on  thy  head 
Horns  have  grown  forth  :  wast  heretofore  a  beast? 
For  such  thy  semblance  now. 

This  play  is  on  the  whole  the  most  favorable  sped-  25 
men  of  the  genius  of   Euripides  —  not  breathing  the 
sweet  composure,  the  melodious  fulness,  the  majesty 
and  grace  of  Sophocles  ;  nor  rudely  and  overpoweringly 
tragic  as  JSschylus ;  but  brilliant,  versatile,  imaginative, 
as  well  as  deeply  pathetic.     Here  then  are  two  dramas  30 
of  extreme  poetical  power,  but  deficient  in  skilfulness  of 


8         Poetry -,  with  reference  to  Aristotle  s  Poetics. 

plot.  Are  they  on  that  account  to  be  rated  below  the 
CEdipus,  which,  in  spite  of  its  many  beauties,  has  not 
even  a  share  of  the  richness  and  sublimity  of  either  ? 


3- 

Aristotle,  then,  it  must  be  allowed,  treats  dramatic 
5  composition  more  as  an  exhibition  of  ingenious  work- 
manship than  as  a  free  and  unfettered  effusion  of 
genius.  The  inferior  poem  may,  on  his  principle,  be 
the  better  tragedy.  He  may  indeed  have  intended 
solely  to  delineate  the  outward  framework  most  suit- 

10  able  to  the  reception  of  the  spirit  of  poetry,  not  to  dis- 
cuss the  nature  of  poetry  itself.  If  so,  it  cannot  be 
denied  that,  the  poetry  being  given  equal  in  the  two 
cases,  the  more  perfect  plot  will  merit  the  greater  share 
of  praise.  And  it  may  seem  to  agree  with  this  view  of- 

15  his  meaning,  that  he  pronounces  Euripides,  in  spite  of 
the  irregularity  of  his  plots,  to  be  after  all  the  most 
tragic  of  the  Greek  dramatists,  that  is,  inasmuch  as  he 
excels  in  his  appeal  to  those  passions  which  the  outward 
form  of  the  drama  merely  subserves.  Still  there  is 

20  surely  too  much  stress  laid  by  the  philosopher  upon  the 
artificial  part ;  which,  after  all,  leads  to  negative  more 
than  to  positive  excellence  ;  and  should  rather  be  the 
natural  and,  so  to  say,  unintentional  result  of  the  poet's 
feeling  and  imagination,  than  be  separated  from  them 

25  as  the  direct  object  of  his  care.  Perhaps  it  is  hardly 
fair  to  judge  of  Aristotle's  sentiments  by  the  fragment 
of  his  work  which  has  come  down  to  us.  Yet  as  his 
natural  taste  led  him  to  delight  in  the  explication  of 
systems,  and  in  those  connected  views  following  upon 


Poetry,  with  reference  to  Aristotle  s  Poetics.         9 

his  vigorous  talent  for  thinking  through  large  subjects, 
we  may  be  allowed  to  suspect  him  of  entertaining  too 
cold  and  formal  conceptions  of  the  nature  of  poetical 
composition,  as  if  its  beauties  were  less  subtile  and  deli- 
cate than  they  really  are.  A  word  has  power  to  convey  5 
a  world  of  information  to  the  imagination,  and  to  act  as 
a  spell  upon  the  feelings  ;  there  is  no  need  of  sustained 
fiction,  —  often  no  room  for  it.  The  sudden  inspiration, 
surely,  of  the  blind  CEdipus,  in  the  second  play  bearing 
his  name,  by  which  he  is  enabled,  "  without  a  guide,"  to  10 
lead  the  way  to  his  place  of  death,  in  our  judgment  pro- 
duces more  poetical  effect  than  all  the  skilful  intricacy 
of  the  plot  of  the  Tyrannus.  The  latter  excites  an 
interest  which  scarcely  lasts  beyond  the  first  reading  — 
the  former  "  decies  repetita  placebit."  15 

Some  confirmation  of  the  judgment  we  have  ventured 
to  pass  on  the  greatest  of  analytical  philosophers  is  the 
account  he  gives  of  the  source  of  poetical  pleasure  ; 
which  he  almost  identifies  with  a  gratification  of  the 
reasoning  faculty,  placing  it  in  the  satisfaction  derived  20 
from  recognizing  in  fiction  a  resemblance  to  the  realities 
of  life  —  "The  spectators  are  led  to  recognize  and  to 
syllogize  what  each  thing  is." 

But  as  we  have  treated,  rather  unceremoniously,  a  de- 
servedly high  authority,  we  will  try  to  compensate  for  25 
our  rudeness  by  illustrating  his  general  doctrine  of  the 
nature  of  Poetry,  which  we  hold  to  be  most  true  and 
philosophical. 

4- 

Poetry^according  to  Aristotle,  is  a  representation  of 
the_ideal.     Biography  and  history  represent  individual  3° 


io       Poetry,  with  reference  to  Aristotle  s  Poetics. 

characters  and  actual  facts  ;  poetry,  on  the  contrary, 
generalizing  from  the  phenomenon  of  nature  and  life, 
supplies  us  with  pictures  drawn,  not  after  an  existing 
pattern,  but  after  a  creation  of  the  mind.  Fidelity  is 
5  the  primary  merit  of  biography  and  history  ;  the  essence 
of  poetry  is  fiction.  "  Poesis  nihil  aliud  est,"  says  Bacon, 
"quam  historiae  imitatio  ad  placitum."  It  delineates 
that  perfection  which  the  imagination  suggests,  and  to 
which  as  ~aTIImit  the  present  system  of  Divine_Provi- 

10  dence  actually  tenets^ Moreover,  by  confining  the  at- 
tention to  one  series  of  events  and  scene  of  action,  it 
bounds  and  finishes  off  the  confused  luxuriance  of  real 
nature ;  while,  by  a  skilful  adjustment  of  circumstances, 
it  brings  into  sight  the  connexion  of  cause  and  effect, 

15  completes  the  dependence  of  the  parts  one  on  another, 
and  harmonizes  the  proportions  of  the  whole.  It  is  then 
but  the  type  and  model  of  history  or  biography,  if  we 
may  be  allowed  the  comparison,  bearing  some  resem- 
blance to  the  abstract  mathematical  formulae  of  physics, 

20  before  they  are  modified  by  the  contingencies  of  atmos- 
phere and  friction.  Hence,  while  it  recreates  the  \m- 
agination  by  the  superhuman  loveliness  of  its  views,  it 
provides  a  solace  for  the  mind  broken  by  the  disappoint- 
ments and  sufferings  of  actual  life  ;  and  becomes,  more- 

25  over,  the  utterance  of  the  inward  emotions  of  a  right 
moral  feeling,  seeking  a  purity  and  a  truth  which  this 

L     world  will  not  give. 

It  follows  that  the  poetical  mind  is  one  full  of  the 

/*T9~  A     f\*~\     iji' 

W   yl&  hrP     eternal  forms  of  beauty  and  perfection  ;  these  are  its 
^W *>&*          30  material  of  thought,  its  instrument  and  medium  of  ob- 

V\'  *  ^  servation, — these  color  each  object  to  which  it  directs 

k? 

its  view.     It  is  called  imaginative  or  creative  from  the 


Poetry,  with  reference  to  Aristotle's  Poetics.        n 

originality  jincL independence  of  its_mpdes_PL thinking, 
coinpared_with  the  commonplace  and  matter-oj-fact  con- 
c^£tion^_ofordmary  minds^jvhich  are  fettered  down  to 
the  particular  and  individual.  At  the  same  time  it  feels 
a  natural  sympathy  with  everything  great^^nd  jsplendid  5 
in  fhlT  physicallmcl  mordworld  ;"lmcirselecting  such  from 
the  mass  of  cornlnbirphenomena^incorporates  them,  as 
i^jwerpjJTTl-^^  of  its  own  creations.  From 

living  ThuslrTaTworld  ofjtsjown,  it  speaks_^he_language 
of  dignity,  emotion,  and  refinement.    Figure  is  its  neces-  10 
sary  medium  of   communication  with  man ;  for  in  the 
feebleness  of  ordinary  words  to  express  its  ideas,  and  in 
the  absence  of  terms  of  abstract  perfection,  the  adoption 
of  metaphorical  language  is  the  only  poor  means  allowed 
it  for  imparting  to  others  its  intense  feelings.     A  metals 
rical  garb  has,  in  all  languages,  been  appropriated  to  / 
poetry — it  is  but  the  outward  development  of  the  music 
and  harmony  within.     The  verse,  far  frorn^bejng  a  f& 
straint_j)n  the  true  poet,  is  the^ suitable  index  of  his 
sense,  and  is  adopted  by  his  free  and  deliberate  choice.  20 
We  shall  presently  show  the  applicability  of  our  doctrine 
to  the  various  departments  of  poetical  composition  ;  first, 
however,  it  will  be  right  to  volunteer  an  explanation 
which  may  save  it  from  much  misconception  and  objec- 
tion.    Let  not  our  notion  be  thought  arbitrarily  to  limit  25 
the  number  of  poets,  generally  considered  such.     It  will 
be  found  to  lower  particular  works,  or  parts  of  works, 
rather  than  the  authors  themselves ;  sometimes  to  dis- 
parage only  the  vehicle  in  which  the  poetry  is  conveyed. 
There  is  an  ambiguity  in  the  word  "  poetry,"  which  is  3° 
taken  to  signify  both  the  gift  itself,  and  the  written 
composition  which  is  the  result  of  it.     Thus  there  is  an 


12       Poetry,  with  reference  to  Aristotle  s  Poetics, 

apparent,  but  no  real  contradiction,  in  saying  a  poem 
may  be  but  partially  poetical ;  in  some  passages  more 
so  than  in  others ;  and  sometimes  not  poetical  at  all. 
We  only  maintain,  not  that  the  writers  forfeit  the  name 
5  of  poet  who  fail  at  times  to  answer  to  our  requisitions, 
but  that  they  are  poets  only  so  far  forth,  and  inasmuch 
as  they  do  answer  to  them.  We  may  grant,  for  instance, 
that  the  vulgarities  of  old  Phoenix  in  the  ninth  Iliad,  or 
of  the  nurse  of  Orestes  in  the  Chcephoroe,  are  in  them- 

10  selves  unworthy  of  their  respective  authors,  and  refer 
them  to  the  wantonness  of  exuberant  genius  ;  and  yet 
maintain  that  the  scenes  in  question  contain  much  inci- 
dental poetry.  Now  and  then  the  lustre  of  the  true 
metal  catches  the  eye,  redeeming  whatever  is  unseemly 

15  and  worthless  in  the  rude  ore ;  still  the  ore  is  not  the 
metal.  Nay,  sometimes,  and  not  unfrequently  in  Shak- 
speare,  the  introduction  of  un  poetical  matter  may  be 
necessary  for  the  sake  of  relief,  or  as  a  vivid  expression 
of  recondite  conceptions,  and,  as  it  were,  to  make  friends 

20  with  the  reader's  imagination.  This  necessity,  however, 
cannot  make  the  additions  in  themselves  beautiful  and 
pleasing.  Sometimes,  on  the  other  hand,  while  we  do 
not  deny  the  incidental  beauty  of  a  poem,  we  are 
ashamed  and  indignant  on  witnessing  the  unworthy 
substance  in  which  that  beauty  is  imbedded.  This  re- 
\  mark  applies  strongly  to  the  immoral  compositions  to 
\which  Lord  Byron  devoted  his  last  years. 

5- 

Now  to  proceed  with  our  proposed  investigation. 

i.  We  will  notice  descriptive  poetry  first.    Empedocles 


Poetry,  with  reference  to  Aristotle  s  Poetics.       13 

wrote  his  physics  in  verse,  and  Oppian  his  history  of 
animals.  Neither  were  poets  —  the  one  was  an  historian 
of  nature,  the  other  a  sort  of  biographer  of  brutes. 
Yet  a  poet  may  make  natural  history  or  philosophy  the 
material  of  his  composition.  But  under  his  hands  they  5 
are  no  longer  a  bare  collection  of  facts  or  principles, 
but  are  painted  with  a  meaning,  beauty,  and  harmonious 
order  not  their  own.  Thomson  has  sometimes  been 
commended  for  the  novelty  and  minuteness  of  his  re- 
marks upon  nature.  This  is  not  the  praise  of  a  poet ;  10 
whose  office  rather  is  to  represent  known  phenomena 
in  a  new  connexion  or  medium.  In  L' Allegro  and  II 
Penseroso  the  poetical  magician  invests  the  commonest 
scenes  of  a  country  life  with  the  hues,  first  of  a  cheer- 
ful, then  of  a  pensive  imagination.  It  is  the  charm  of  15 
the  descriptive  poetry  of  a  religious  mind  that  nature 
is  viewed  in  a  moral  connexion.  Ordinary  writers,  for 
instance,  compare  aged  men  to  trees  in  autumn  —  a 
gifted  poet  will  in  the  fading  trees  discern  the  fading 
men.*  Pastoral  poetry  is  a  description  of  rustics,  agri-  20 
culture,  and  cattle,  softened  off  and  corrected  from  the 
rude  health  of  nature.  Virgil,  and  much  more  Pope 
and  others,  have  run  into  the  fault  of  coloring  too 
highly ;  instead  of  drawing  generalized  and  ideal  forms 
of  shepherds,  they  have  given  us  pictures  of  gentlemen  25 
and  beaux. 

Their  composition  may  be  poetry,  but  it  is  not  pastoral 
poetry. 

*  Thus :—    "  How  quiet  shows  the  woodland  scene ! 

Each  flower  and  tree,  its  duty  done,  30 

Reposing  in  decay  serene, 

Like  weary  men  when  age  is  won,"  etc. 


14       Poetry,  with  reference  to  Aristotle's  Poetics. 

2.  The  difference  between  poetical  and  historical  nar- 
rative may  be  illustrated  by  the  Tales  Founded  on  Facts, 
generally  of  a  religious  character,  so  common  in  the 
present  day,  which  we  must  not  be  thought  to  approve 
5  because  we  use  them  for  our  purpose.  The  author  finds 
in  the  circumstances  of  the  case  many  particulars  too 
trivial  for  public  notice,  or  irrelevant  to  the  main  story, 
or  partaking  perhaps  too  much  of  the  peculiarity  of  in- 
dividual minds :  these  he  omits.  He  finds  connected 

10  events  separated  from  each  other  by  time  or  place,  or 
a  course  of  action  distributed  among  a  multitude  of 
agents  ;  he  limits  the  scene  or  duration  of  the  tale,  and 
dispenses  with  his  host  of  characters  by  condensing  the 
mass  of  incident  and  action  in  the  history  of  a  few.  He 

*5  compresses  long  controversies  into  a  concise  argument, 
and  exhibits  characters  by  dialogue,  and  (if  such  be  his 
object)  brings  prominently  forward  the  course  of  Divine 
Providence  by  a  fit  disposition  of  his  materials.  Thus 
he  selects,  combines,  refines,  colors, — in  fact,  poetizes. 

20  His  facts  are  no  longer  actual,  but  ideal ;  a  tale  founded 
on  facts  is  a  tale  generalized  from  facts.  The  authors 
of  Peveril  of  the  Peak,  and  of  Brambletye  House,  have 
given  us  their  respective  descriptions  of  the  profligate 
times  of  Charles  II.  Both  accounts  are  interesting,  but 

25  for  different  reasons.  That  of  the  latter  writer  has  the 
fidelity  of  history  ;  Walter  Scott's  picture  is  the  hideous 
reality  unintentionally  softened  and  decorated  by  the 
poetry  of  his  own  mind.  Miss  Edgeworth  sometimes 
apologizes  for  certain  incidents  in  her  tales  by  stating 

30  they  took  place  "  by  one  of  those  strange  chances  which 
occur  in  life,  but  seem  incredible  when  found  in  writ- 
ing." Such  an  excuse  evinces  a  misconception  of  the 


Poetry,  with  reference  to  Aristotle's  Poetics,        15 

principle  of  fiction,  which,  being  the  perfection  of  the 
actual,  prohibits  the  introduction  of  any  such  anomalies 
of  experience.  It  is  by  a  similar  impropriety  that  paint- 
ers sometimes  introduce  unusual  sunsets,  or  other  singu- 
lar phenomena  of  lights  and  forms.  Yet  some  of  Miss  5 
Edgeworth's  works  contain  much  poetry  of  narrative. 
Manoeuvring  is  perfect  in  its  way,  —  the  plot  and  char- 
acters are  natural,  without  being  too  real  to  be  pleasing. 
3.  Character  is  made  poetical  by  a  like  process.  The 
writer  draws  indeed  from  experience ;  but  unnatural  10 
peculiarities  are  laid  aside,  and  harsh  contrasts  recon- 
ciled. If  it  be  said,  the  fidelity  of  the  imitation  is  often 
its  greatest  merit,  we  have  only  to  reply  that  in  such 
cases  the  pleasure  is  not  poetical,  but  consists  in  the 
mere  recognition.  All  novels  and  tales  which  introduce  15 
real  characters  are  in  the  same  degree  un poetical.  Por- 
trait-painting, to  be  poetical,  should  furnish  an  abstract 
representation  of  an  individual ;  the  abstraction  being 
more  rigid,  inasmuch  as  the  painting  is  confined  to  one 
point  of  time.  The  artist  should  draw  independently  of  2o 
the  accidents  of  attitude,  dress,  occasional  feeling,  and 
transient  action.  He  should  depict  the  general  spirit  of 
his  subject  —  as  if  he  were  copying  from  memory,  not 
from  a  few  particular  sittings.  An  ordinary  painter 
will  delineate  with  rigid  fidelity,  and  will  make  a  cari-  25 
cature  ;  but  the  learned  artist  contrives  so  to  temper 
his  composition  as  to  sink  all  offensive  peculiarities 
and  hardnesses  of  individuality,  without  diminishing  the 
striking  effect  of  the  likeness,  or  acquainting  the  casual 
spectator  with  the  secret  of  his  art.  Miss  Edgeworth's  30 
representations  of  the  Irish  character  are  actual,  and 
not  poetical  —  nor  were  they  intended  to  be  so.  They 


1 6       Poetry,  ivith  reference  to  Aristotle  s  Poetics. 

are  interesting,  because  they  are  faithful.  If  there  is 
poetry  about  them,  it  exists  in  the  personages  them- 
selves, not  in  her  representation  of  them.  She  is  only 
the  accurate  reporter  in  word  of  what  was  poetical  in 
5  fact.  Hence,  moreover,  when  a  deed  or  incident  is 
striking  in  itself,  a  judicious  writer  is  led  to  describe  it 
in  the  most  simple  and  colorless  terms,  his  own  being 
unnecessary  ;  for  instance,  if  the  greatness  of  the  action 
itself  excites  the  imagination,  or  the  depth  of  the  suffer- 
to  ing  interests  the  feelings.  In  the  usual  phrase,  the  cir- 
cumstances are  left  "to  speak  for  themselves." 

Let  it  not  be  said  that  our  doctrine  is  adverse  to  that 
individuality  in  the  delineation  of  character  which  is  a 
principal  charm  of  fiction.  It  is  not  necessary  for  the 
15  ideality  of  a  composition  to  avoid  those  minuter  shades 
of  difference  between  man  and  man  which  give  to 
poetry  its  plausibility  and  life  ;  but  merely  such  viola- 
tion of  general  nature,  such  improbabilities,  wanderings, 
or  coarsenesses,  as  interfere  with  the  refined  and  deli- 
20  cate  enjoyment  of  the  imagination  ;  which  would  have 
the  elements  of  beauty  extracted  out  of  the  confused 
multitude  of  ordinary  actions  and  habits,  and. combined 
with  consistency  and  ease.  Nor  does  it  exclude  the 
introduction  of  imperfect  or  odious  characters.  The 
25  original  conception  of  a  weak  or  guilty  mind  may  have 
its  intrinsic  beauty ;  and  much  more  so,  when  it  is  con- 
nected with  a  tale  which  finally  adjusts  whatever  is 
reprehensible  in  the  personages  themselves.  Richard 
and  lago  are  subservient  to  the  plot.  Moral  excellence 
3°  in  some  characters  may  become  even  a  fault.  The  Cly- 
temnestra  of  Euripides  is  so  interesting  that  the  divine 
vengeance,  which  is  the  main  subject  of  the  drama, 


Poetry,  with  reference  to  Aristotle  s  Poetics.        17 

seems  almost  unjust.  Lady  Macbeth,  on  the  contrary, 
is  the  conception  of  one  deeply  learned  in  the  poetical 
art.  She  is  polluted  with  the  most  heinous  crimes,  and 
meets  the  fate  she  deserves.  Yet  there  is  nothing  in 
the  picture  to  offend  the  taste,  and  much  to  feed  the  5 
imagination.  Romeo  and  Juliet  are  too  good  for  the 
termination  to  which  the  plot  leads  ;  so  are  Ophelia  and 
the  Bride  of  Lammermoor.  In  these  cases  there  is 
something  inconsistent  with  correct  beauty,  and  there- 
fore unpoetical.  We  do  not  say  the  fault  could  be  10 
avoided  without  sacrificing  more  than  would  be  gained  ; 
still  it  is  a  fault.  It  is  scarcely  possible  for  a  poet 
satisfactorily  to  connect  innocence  with  ultimate  unhap- 
piness,  when  the  notion  of  a  future  life  is  excluded. 
Honors  paid  to  the  memory  of  the  dead  are  some  15 
alleviation  of  the  harshness.  In  his  use  of  the  doctrine 
of  a  future  life,  Southey  is  admirable.  Other  writers 
are  content  to  conduct  their  heroes  to  temporal  happi- 
ness ;  —  Southey  refuses  present  comfort  to  his  Ladur- 
lad,  Thalaba,  and  Roderick,  but  carries  them  on  through  20 
suffering  to  another  world.  The  death  of  his  hero  is 
the  termination  of  the  action ;  yet  so  little  in  two  of 
them,  at  least,  does  this  catastrophe  excite  sorrowful 
feelings,  that  some  readers  may  be  startled  to  be  re- 
minded of  the  fact.  If  a  melancholy  is  thrown  over  the  25 
conclusion  of  the  Roderick,  it  is  from  the  peculiarities 
of  the  hero's  previous  history. 

4.  Opinions,  feelings,  manners,  and  customs,  are  made 
poetical  by  the  delicacy  or  splendor  with  which  they  are 
expressed.     This  is  seen  in  the  ode,  elegy,  sonnet,  and  3° 
ballad ;  in  which  a  single  idea,  perhaps,  or  familiar  oc- 
currence, is  invested  by  the  poet  with  pathos  or  dignity. 


1 8       Poetry,  with  reference  to  Aristotle's  Poetics. 

The  ballad  of  Old  Robin  Gray  will  serve  for  an  instance, 
out  of  a  multitude  ;  again,  Lord  Byron's  Hebrew  Melody, 
beginning,  "  Were  my  bosom  as  false,"  etc. ;  or  Cowper's 
Lines  on  his  Mother's  Picture;  or  Milman's  Funeral 
5  Hymn  in  the  Martyr  of  Antioch ;  or  Milton's  Sonnet  on 
his  Blindness  ;  or  Bernard  Barton's  Dream.  As  pictur- 
esque specimens,  we  may  name  Campbell's  Battle  of  the 
Baltic ;  or  Joanna  Baillie's  Chough  and  Crow  ;  and  for 
the  more  exalted  and  splendid  style,  Gray's  Bard  ;  or  Mil- 
10  ton's  Hymn  on  the  Nativity ;  in  which  facts,  with  which 
every  one  is  familiar,  are  made  new  by  the  coloring  of 
a  poetical  imagination.  It  must  all  along  be  observed 
that  we  are  not  adducing  instances  for  their  own  sake  ; 
but  in  order  to  illustrate  our  general  doctrine,  and  to 
15  show  its  applicability  to  those  compositions  which  are, 
by  universal  consent,  acknowledged  to  be  poetical. 

The  department  of  poetry  we  are  now  speaking  of  is 
of  much  wider  extent  than  might  at  first  sight  appear. 
It  will  include  such  moralizing  and  philosophical  poems 
20  as  Young's  Night  Thoughts  and  Byron's  Childe  Harold. 
There  is  much  bad  taste,  at  present,  in  the  judgment 
passed  on  compositions  of  this  kind.  It  is  the  fault  of 
the  day  to  mistake  mere  eloquence  for  poetry ;  whereas, 
in  direct  opposition  to  the  conciseness  and  simplicity  of 
25  the  poet,  the  talent  of  the  orator  consists  in  making 
much  of  a  single  idea.  "  Sic  dicet  ille  ut  verset  saepe 
multis  modis  eandem  et  unam  rem,  ut  haereat  in  eadem 
commoreturque  sententia."  This  is  the  great  art  of 
Cicero  himself,  who,  whether  he  is  engaged  in  state- 
so  ment,  argument,  or  raillery,  never  ceases  till  he  has  ex- 
hausted the  subject ;  going  round  about  it,  and  placing 
it  in  every  different  light,  yet  without  repetition  to 


Poetry,  with  reference  to  Aristotle  s  Poetics.        19 

offend  or  weary  the  reader.  This  faculty  seems  to  con- 
sist in  the  power  of  throwing  off  harmonious  verses, 
which,  while  they  have  a  respectable  portion  of  mean- 
ing, yet  are  especially  intended  to  charm  the  ear.  In 
popular  poems,  common  ideas  are  unfolded  with  copi-  5 
ousness,  and  set  off  in  polished  verse  —  and  this  is  called 
poetry.  Such  is  the  character  of  Campbell's  Pleasures 
of  Hope ;  it  is  in  his  minor  poems  that  the  author's 
poetical  genius  rises  to  its  natural  elevation.  In  Childe 
Harold,  too,  the  writer  is  carried  through  his  Spenserian  10 
stanza  with  the  unweariness  and  equable  fulness  of  ac- 
complished eloquence  ;  opening,  illustrating,  and  height- 
ening one  idea,  before  he  passes  on  to  another.  His 
composition  is  an  extended  funeral  sermon  over  buried 
joys  and  pleasures.  His  laments  over  Greece,  Rome,  15 
and  the  fallen  in  various  engagements,  have  quite  the 
character  of  panegyrical  orations ;  while  by  the  very 
attempt  to  describe  the  celebrated  buildings  and  sculp- 
tures of  antiquity,  he  seems  to  confess  that  they  are  the 
poetical  text,  his  the  rhetorical  comment.  Still  it  is  a  20 
work  of  splendid  talent,  though,  as  a  whole,  not  of  the 
highest  poetical  excellence.  Juvenal  is  perhaps  the  only 
ancient  author  who  habitually  substitutes  declamation 
for  poetry. 

5.  The  philosophy  of  mind  may  equally  be  made  sub-  25 
servient  to  poetry,  as  the  philosophy  of  nature.     It  is  a 
common  fault  to  mistake  a  mere  knowledge  of  the  heart 
for  poetical  talent.     Our  greatest  masters  have  known 
better;  —  they  have  subjected  metaphysics  to  their  artv^ 
In  Hamlet,  Macbeth,  Richard,  and  Othello,  the  philoso-  30 
phy  of  mind  is  but  the  material  of  the  poet.     These 
personages  are  ideal ;  they  are  effects  of  the  contact  of 


2O       Poetry,  with  reference  to  Aristotle  s  Poetics. 

a  given  internal  character  with  given  outward  circum- 
stances, the  results  of  combined  conditions  determining 
(so  to  say)  a  moral  curve  of  original  and  inimitable 
properties.  Philosophy  is  exhibited  in  the  same  sub- 
5  serviency  to  poetry  in  many  parts  of  Crabbe's  Tales  of 
the  Hall.  In  the  writings  of  this  author  there  is  much 
to  offend  a  refined  taste ;  but,  at  least  in  the  work  in 
question,  there  is  much  of  a  highly  poetical  cast.  It  is 
a  representation  of  the  action  and  reaction  of  two  minds 

10  upon  each  other  and  upon  the  world  around  them. 
Two  brothers  of  different  characters  and  fortunes,  and 
strangers  to  each  other,  meet.  Their  habits  of  mind, 
the  formation  of  those  habits  by  external  circumstances, 
their  respective  media  of  judgment,  their  points  of  mu- 

15  tual  attraction  and  repulsion,  the  mental  position  of  each 
in  relation  to  a  variety  of  trifling  phenomena  of  every- 
day nature  and  life,  are  beautifully  developed  in  a  series 
of  tales  moulded  into  a  connected  narrative.  We  are 
tempted  to  single  out  the  fourth  book,  which  gives  an 

20  account  of  the  childhood  and  education  of  the  younger 
brother,  and  which  for  variety  of  thought  as  well  as 
fidelity  of  description  is  in  our  judgment  beyond  praise. 
The  Waverley  Novels  would  afford  us  specimens  of  a 
similar  excellence.  One  striking  peculiarity  of  these 

25  tales  is  the  author's  practice  of  describing  a  group  of 
characters  bearing  the  same  general  features  of  mind, 
and  placed  in  the  same  general  circumstances  ;  yet  so 
contrasted  with  each  other  in  minute  differences  of 
mental  constitution,  that  each  diverges  from  the  com- 

3°  mon  starting-point  into  a  path  peculiar  to  himself.  The 
brotherhood  of  villains  in  Kenilworth,  of  knights  in 
Ivanhoe,  and  of  enthusiasts  in  Old  Mortality,  are  in- 


Poetry,  with  reference  to  Aristotle  s  Poetics.       21 

stances  of  this.  This  bearing  of  character  and  plot  on 
each  other  is  not  often  found  in  Byron's  poems.  The 
Corsair  is  intended  for  a  remarkable  personage.  We 
pass  by  the  inconsistencies  of  his  character,  considered 
by  itself.  The  grand  fault  is  that,  whether  it  be  natural  5 
or  not,  we  are  obliged  to  accept  the  author's  word  for 
the  fidelity  of  his  portrait.  We  are  told,  not  shown, 
what  the  hero  was.  There  is  nothing  in  the  plot  which 
results  from  his  peculiar  formation  of  mind.  An  every- 
day bravo  might  equally  well  have  satisfied  the  require-  10 
ments  of  the  action.  Childe  Harold,  again,  if  he  is  any- 
thing, is  a  being  professedly  isolated  from  the  world,  and 
uninfluenced  by  it.  One  might  as  well  draw  Tityrus's 
stags  grazing  in  the  air,  as  a  character  of  this  kind  ; 
which  yet,  with  more  or  less  alteration,  passes  through  15, 
successive  editions  in  his  other  poems.  Byron  had  very 
little  versatility  or  elasticity  of  genius ;  he  did  not  know 
how  to  make  poetry  out  of  existing  materials.  He  de- 
claims in  his  own  way,  and  has  the  upperhand  as  long 
as  he  is  allowed  to  go  on ;  but,  if  interrogated  on  prin-  20 
ciples  of  nature  and  good  sense,  he  is  at  once  put  out 
and  brought  to  a  stand. 

Yet  his  conception  of  Sardanapalus  and  Myrrha  is  fine 
and  ideal,  and  in  the  style  of  excellence  which  we  have 
just  been  admiring  in  Shakspeare  and  Scott.  25. 

6. 

These  illustrations  of  Aristotle's  doctrine  may  suffice. 

Now  let  us  proceed  to  a  fresh  position  ;  which,  as  be- 
fore, shall  first  be  broadly  stated,  then  modified  and  ex- 
plained. How  does  originality  differ  from  the  poetical 


Poetry,  with  reference  to  Aristotle's  Poetics. 

talent?  Without  affecting  the  accuracy  of  a  definition, 
we  may  call  the  latter  the  originality  of  right  moral 
feeling. 

Originality  may  perhaps  be  defined  the  power  of  ab- 

5  Stracting  for  one's  self,  and  is  in  thought  what  strength 
mind  is  in  action.  Our  opinions  are  commonly  de- 
rived from  education  and  society.  Common  minds  trans- 
mit as  they  receive,  good  and  bad,  true  and  false  ;  minds 
of  original  talent  feel  a  continual  propensity  to  investi- 

10  gate  subjects  and  strike  out  views  for  themselves  ;  —  so 
that  even  old  and  established  truths  do  not  escape  modi- 
fication and  accidental  change  when  subjected  to  this 
process  of  mental  digestion.  Even  the  style  of  original 
writers  is  stamped  with  the  peculiarities  of  their  minds. 

15  When  originality  is  found  apart  from  good  sense,  which 
more  or  less  is  frequently  the  case,  it  shows  itself  in 
paradox  and  rashness  of  sentiment,  and  eccentricity  of 

^outward  conduct.  \Poetry,  on  the  other  hand,  cannot  be 
separated  from  its  good  sense,  or  taste,  as  it  is  called ; 

20  which  is  one  of  its  elements.  It  is  originality  energiz- 
ing in  the  world  of  beauty ;  the  originality  of  grace, 
purity,  refinement,  and  good  feeling.  We  do  not  hesi- 
tate to  say  that  poetry  is  ultimately  founded  on  correct 
moral  perception  ;  that  where  there  is  no  sound  principle 

25  in  exercise  there  will  be  no  poetry ;  and  that  on  the 
whole  (originality  being  granted)  in  proportion  to  the 
standard  of  a  writer's  moral  character  will  his  compo- 
sitions vary  in  poetical  excellence.  This  position,  how- 
ever, requires  some  explanation. 

30  Of  course,  then,  we  do  not  mean  to  imply  that  a  poet 
must  necessarily  display  virtuous  and  religious  feeling ; 
we  are  not  speaking  of  the  actual  material  of  poetry, 


Poetry,  with  reference  to  Aristotle  s  Poetics.       23 

but  of  its  sources.  A  right  moral  state  of  heart  is  the 
formal  and  scientific  condition  of  a  poetical  mind.  Nor 
does  it  follow  from  our  position  that  every  poet  must  in 
fact  be  a  man  of  consistent  and  practical  principle ;  ex- 
cept so  far  as  good  feeling  commonly  produces  or  results  5 
from  good  practice.  Burns  was  a  man  of  inconsistent 
life ;  still,  it  is  known,  of  much  really  sound  principle  at 
bottom.  Thus  his  acknowledged  poetical  talent  is  in 
nowise  inconsistent  with  the  truth  of  our  doctrine,  which 
will  refer  the  beauty  which  exists  in  his  compositions  to  10 
the  remains  of  a  virtuous  and  diviner  nature  within  him. 
Nay,  further  than  this,  our  theory  holds  good,  even 
though  it  be  shown  that  a  depraved  man  may  write  a 
poem.  As  motives  short  of  the  purest  lead  to  actions 
intrinsically  good,  so  frames  of  mind  short  of  virtuous  15 
will  produce  a  partial  and  limited  poetry.  But  even 
where  this  is  instanced,  the  poetry  of  a  vicious  mind 
will  be  inconsistent  and  debased ;  that  is,  so  far  only 
poetry  as  the  traces  and  shadows  of  holy  truth  still  re- 
main upon  it.  On  the  other  hand,  a  right  moral  feeling  20 
places  the  mind  in  the  very  centre  of  that  circle  from 
which  all  the  rays  have  their  origin  and  range ;  whereas 
minds  otherwise  placed  command  but  a  portion  of  the 
whole  circuit  of  poetry.  Allowing  for  human  infirmity 
and  the  varieties  of  opinion,  Milton,  Spenser,  Cowper,  25 
Wordsworth,  and  Southey  may  be  considered,  as  far  as 
their  writings  go,  to  approximate  to  this  moral  centre. 
The  following  are  added  as  further  illustrations  of  our 
meaning.  Walter  Scott's  centre  is  chivalrous  honor ; 
Shakspeare  exhibits  the  characteristics  of  an  unlearned  30 
and  undisciplined  piety ;  Homer  the  religion  of  nature 
and  conscience,  at  times  debased  by  polytheism.  All 


24       Poetry,  with  reference  to  Aristotle  s  Poetics. 

these  poets  are  religious.  The  occasional  irreligion  of 
Virgil's  poetry  is  painful  to  the  admirers  of  his  general 
taste  and  delicacy.  Dryden's  Alexander's  Feast  is  a 
magnificent  composition,  and  has  high  poetical  beauties  ; 

5  but  to  a  refined  judgment  there  is  something  intrinsi- 
cally unpoetical  in  the  end  to  which  it  is  devoted,  the 
praises  of  revel  and  sensuality.  It  corresponds  to  a 
process  of  clever  reasoning  erected  on  an  untrue  foun- 
dation —  the  one  is  a  fallacy,  the  other  is  out  of  taste. 

10  Lord  Byron's  Manfred  is  in  parts  intensely  poetical ; 
yet  the  delicate  mind  naturally  shrinks  from  the  spirit 
which  here  and  there  reveals  itself,  and  the  basis  on 
which  the  drama  is  built.  From  a  perusal  of  it  we  should 
infer,  according  to  the  above  theory,  that  there  was  right 

15  and  fine  feeling  in  the  poet's  mind,  but  that  the  central 
and  consistent  character  was  wanting.  From  the  history 
of  his  life  we  know  this  to  be  the  fact.  The  connexion 
between  want  of  the  religious  principle  and  want  of 
poetical  feeling  is  seen  in  the  instances  of  Hume  and 

20  Gibbon,  who  had  radically  unpoetical  minds.  Rousseau, 
it  may  be  supposed,  is  an  exception  to  our  doctrine. 
Lucretius,  too,  had  great  poetical  genius ;  but  his  work 
evinces  that  his  miserable  philosophy  was  rather  the  re- 
sult of  a  bewildered  judgment  than  a  corrupt  heart. 

25  According  to  the  above  theory,  Revealed  Religion 
should  be  especially  poetical  —  and  it  is  so  in  fact.  While 
its  disclosures  have  an  originality  in  them  to  engage  the 
intellect,  they  have  a  beauty  to  satisfy  the  moral  nature. 
It  presents  us  with  those  ideal  forms  of  excellence  in 

30  which  a  poetical  mind  delights,  and  with  which  all  grace 
and  harmony  are  associated.  It  brings  us  into  a  new 
world  —  a  world  of  overpowering  interest,  of  the  sub- 


Poetry,  with  reference  to  Aristotle  s  Poetics.       25 

limest  views  and  the  tenderest  and  purest  feelings.  The 
peculiar  grace  of  mind  of  the  New  Testament  writers  is 
as  striking  as  the  actual  effect  produced  upon  the  hearts 
of  those  who  have  imbibed  their  spirit.  At  present  we 
are  not  concerned  with  the  practical,  but  the  poetical,  5 
nature  of  revealed  truth.  With  Christians,  a  poetical 
view  of  things  is  a  duty,  —  we  are  bid  to  color  all  things 
with  hues  of  faith,  to  see  a  Divine  meaning  in  every  event, 
and  a  superhuman  tendency.  Even  our  friends  around 
are  invested  with  unearthly  brightness  —  no  longer  10 
imperfect  men,  but  beings  taken  into  Divine  favor, 
stamped  with  His  seal,  and  in  training  for  future  hap- 
piness. It  may  be  added  that  the  virtues  peculiarly 
Christian  are  especially  poetical  —  meekness,  gentleness, 
compassion,  contentment,  modesty,  not  to  mention  the  15 
devotional  virtues  ;  whereas  the  ruder  and  more  ordinary 
feelings  are  the  instruments  of  rhetoric  more  justly  than 
of  poetry  —  anger,  indignation,  emulation,  martial  spirit, 
and  love  of  independence. 


A  few  remarks  on  poetical  composition,  and  we  have  20 
done.    The  art  of  composition  is  merely  accessory  to  the 
poetical  talent.     But  where  that  talent  exists,  it  neces- 
sarily gives  its  own  character  to  the  style,  and  renders 
it  perfectly  different  from  all  others.    As  a  poet's  habits 
of  mind  lead  to  contemplation  rather  than  to  communi-  25 
cation  with  others,  he  is  more  or  less  obscure  according 
to  the  particular  style  of  poetry  he  has  adopted ;  les/  so 
in  epic,  or  narrative  and  dramatic  representation,  —  more 
so  in  odes  and  choruses.    He  will  be  obscure,  moreover, 


26       Poetry,  with  reference  to  Aristotle  s  Poetics. 

from  the  depth  of  his  feelings,  which  require  a  congenial 
reader  to  enter  into  them  —  and  from  their  acuteness, 
which  shrinks  from  any  formal  accuracy  in  the  expres- 
sion of  them.  And  he  will  be  obscure,  not  only  from 
5  the  carelessness  of  genius,  and  from  the  originality  of 
his  conceptions,  but  it  may  be  from  natural  deficiency 
in  the  power  of  clear  and  eloquent  expression,  which, 
we  must  repeat,  is  a  talent  distinct  from  poetry,  though 
often  mistaken  for  it. 

10  However,  dexterity  in  composition,  or  eloquence  as  it 
may  be  called  in  a  contracted  sense  of  the  word,  is  mani- 
festly more  or  less  necessary  in  every  branch  of  litera- 
ture, though  its  elements  may  be  different  in  each. 
j  Poetical  eloquence  consists,  first,  in  the  power  of  illus- 

id  tration ;  which  the  poet  uses,  not  as  the  orator,  volun- 
tarily, for  the  sake  of  clearness  or  ornament,  but  almost 
by  constraint,  as  the  sole  outlet  and  expression  of  intense 
inward  feeling.  This  spontaneous  power  of  comparison 
may,  in  some  poetical  minds,  be  very  feeble ;  these  of 

20  course  cannot  show  to  advantage  as  poets.  Another 
talent  necessary  to  composition  is  the  power  of  unfold- 
ing the  meaning  in  an  orderly  manner.  A  poetical 
mind  is  often  too  impatient  to  explain  itself  justly ;  it 
is  overpowered  by  a  rush  of  emotions,  which  sometimes 

25  want  of  power,  sometimes  the  indolence  of  inward  en- 
joyment, prevents  it  from  describing^rNothing  is  more 
difficult  than  to  analyze  the  feelings  of  our  own  minds  ; 
and  the  power  of  doing  so,  whether  natural  or  acquired, 
is  clearly  distinct  from  experiencing  them.  Yet,  though 

30  distinct  from  the  poetical  talent,  it  is  obviously  necessary 
to  its  exhibition.  Hence  it  is  a  common  praise  bestowed 
upon  writers,  that  they  express  what  we  have  often  felt, 


Poetry,  with  reference  to  Aristotle  s  Poetics.        27 

but  could  never  describe.  The  power  of  arrangement, 
which  is  necessary  for  an  extended  poem,  is  a  modifica- 
tion of  the  same  talent,  being  to  poetry  what  method  is 
to  logic.  Besides  these  qualifications,  poetical  compo- 
sition requires  that  command  of  language  which  is  the  5 
mere  effect  of  practice.  The  poet  is  a  compositor ; 
words  are  his  types ;  he  must  have  them  within  reach, 
and  in  unlimited  abundance.  Hence  the  need  of  careful 
labor  to  the  accomplished  poet,  —  not  in  order  that  his| 
diction  may  attract,  but  that  the  language  may  be  sub-  10 
jected  to  him.  He  studies  the  art  of  composition  as  we 
might  learn  dancing  or  elocution  ;  not  that  we  may 
move  or  speak  according  to  rule,  but  that,  by  the  very 
exercise,  our  voice  and  carriage  may  become  so  unem- 
barrassed as  to  allow  of  our  doing  what  we  will  with  15 
them. 

A  talent  for  composition,  then,  is  no  essential  part  of 
poetry,  though  indispensable  to  its  exhibition.  Hence 
it  would  seem  that  attention  to  the  language,  for  its  own 
sake,  evidences  not  the  true  poet,  but  the  mere  artist.  20 
Pope  is  said  to  have  tuned  our  tongue.  We  certainly 
owe  much  to  him  —  his  diction  is  rich,  musical,  and  ex- 
pressive ;  still  he  is  not  on  this  account  a  poet ;  he  elab- 
orated his  composition  for  its  own  sake.  If  we  give 
him  poetical  praise  on  this  account,  we  may  as  appro-  25 
priately  bestow  it  on  a  tasteful  cabinet-maker.  This 
does  not  forbid  us  to  ascribe  the  grace  of  his  verse  to 
an  inward  principle  of  poetry,  which  supplied  him  with 
archetypes  of  the  beautiful  and  splendid  to  work  by. 
But  a  similar  gift  must  direct  the  skill  of  every  fancy-  30 
artist  who  subserves  the  luxuries  and  elegances  of  life. 
On  the  other  hand,  though  Virgil  is  celebrated  as  a 


28       Poetry,  with  reference  to  Aristotle  s  Poetics. 

master  of  composition,  yet  his  style  is  so  identified  with 
his  conceptions,  as  their  outward  development,  as  to  pre- 
clude the  possibility  of  our  viewing  the  one  apart  from 
the  other.  In  Milton,  again,  the  harmony  of  the  verse 

5  is  but  the  echo  of  the  inward  music  which  the  thoughts 
of  the  poet  breathe.  In  Moore's  style,  the  ornament 
continually  outstrips  the  sense.  Cowper  and  Walter 
Scott,  on  the  other  hand,  are  slovenly  in  their  versifica- 
tion. Sophocles  writes,  on  the  whole,  without  studied 

10  attention  to  the  style  ;  but  Euripides  frequently  affected 
a  simplicity  and  prettiness  which  exposed  him  to  the  ridi- 
cule of  the  comic  poets.  Lastly,  the  style  of  Homer's 
poems  is  perfect  in  their  particular  department.  It  is 
free,  manly,  simple,  perspicuous,  energetic,  and  varied. 

15  It  is  the  style  of  one  who  rhapsodized  without  deference 
to  hearer  or  judge,  in  an  age  prior  to  the  temptations 
which  more  or  less  prevailed  over  succeeding  writers  — 
before  the  theatre  had  degraded  poetry  into  an  exhibi- 
tion, and  criticism  narrowed  it  into  an  art. 

January,  1829. 


Note  by  the  Author.  29 


NOTE  BY  THE  AUTHOR. 

[As  printed  in  the  author's  Essays  Critical  and  Historical,  this  essay  is 
followed  by  a  note,  the  subjoined  extract  from  which  is  especially  relevant 
to  the  topic  discussed.] 

The  following  reference  is  made  to  it  [the  foregoing 
article]  in  my  "  Religious  Opinions"  p.  1 1  :  "I  recollect 
how  dissatisfied  Dr.  Whately  was  with  an  article  of 
mine  in  the  London  Review,  which  Blanco  White  good- 
humoredly  only  called  '  Platonic  '  ; "  and  indeed  it  cer- 
tainly omits  one  of  the  essential  conditions  of  the  idea 
of  Poetry,  its  relation  to  the  affections,  —  and  that  in 
consequence,  as  it  would  seem,  of  confusing  the  func- 
tion and  aim  of  Poetry  with  its  formal  object.  As  the 
aim  of  civil  government  is  the  well-being  of  the  governed, 
and  its  object  is  expediency ;  as  the  aim  of  oratory  is  to 
persuade,  and  its  object  is  the  probable  ;  as  the  function 
of  philosophy  is  to  view  all  things  in  their  mutual  rela- 
tions, and  its  object  is  truth ;  and  as  virtue  consists  in 
the  observance  of  the  moral  law,  and  its  object  is  the 
right ;  so  Poetry  may  be  considered  to  be  the  gift  of 
moving  the  affections  through  the  imagination,  and  its 
object  to  be  the  beautiful 

I  should  observe  that  several  sentences  of  this  Essay, 
which  in  passing  through  the  press  were,  by  virtue  of  an 
editor's  just  prerogative,  altered  or  changed,  now  stand 
as  I  sent  them  to  him. 


NOTES. 


1  4.  Aristotle.  Poetics  6.  7-9  :  "  All  tragedy  then  must  have  six  parts 
.  .  .  :  plot,  character,  sentiment,  style,  decoration,  music.  ...  Of  these 
the  most  important  is  the  arrangement  of  incident;  for  tragedy  is  a 
representation,  not  of  persons,  but  of  action  and  life,  happiness  and  unhap- 
piness;  and  happiness  and  unhappiness  consist  in  action,  the  end  being 
action,  not  a  quality." 

5  7.  Minute  diligence.  Cf.  Mahaffy  on  the  Poetics  {Hist.  Grk.  Lit. 
2.  410)  :  "  One  almost  suspects  that  the  author  was  beginning  to  disbelieve 
in  genius,  and  attribute  artistic  success  to  mere  soundness  and  accuracy  of 
method.  How  far  truer  and  more  appreciative  is  the  tract  of  Longinus 
on  the  Sublime  !  " 

5  15.  Frequently  instanced.  Mahaffy,  Hist.  Grk.  Lit.  2.410:  "His 
ideal  poet  seems  to  have  been  Sophocles,  and  his  ideal  play  the  (Edipus 
Rex." 

7  4.  "  Quern  Deus"  etc.  "  Whom  a  god  wishes  to  destroy,  he  first 
makes  mad."  A  Latin  translation  of  a  fragment  of  Euripides,  quoted  by 
Athenagoras  : 

"Orav  5£  8a.ifj.wv  dvSpl  iropfftvrj  KCLKO. 
T6i>  vovv  efiXatye  irpurov. 


7  21-3.     A  Bull,  etc.     Euripides,  Baccha  920-2. 

8  15.     Pronounces  Euripides,  etc.    Poetics  13.  6:  "  Euripides,  whatever 
else  he  may  manage  ill,  yet  appears  the  most  tragic  of  poets." 

9  10.     "  Without  a  guide."    Quoted  from  Sophocles,  (Edipus  at  Colonos 
1588. 

9  15.     "  Decies  repetita  placebit."     Horace,  Art  of  Poetry  365  : 

That  gives  us  pleasure  for  a  single  view; 
And  this,  ten  times  repeated,  still  is  new. 

9  22.      The  spectators,  etc.     Aristotle,  Poetics  4.  5. 

9  29.     Representation  of  the  ideal.     Poetics  9.  1-4;  cf.  Sidney,  Defense 

31 


32  Notes. 

of  Poesy  18  25  ff.,  Shelley,  Defense  of  Poetry  10  9  ff.,  and  the  notes  on  both 
passages. 

10  2,     Phenomenon.     Misprint  for  "  phenomena  "  ? 

10  6.     Poesis,  etc.     Bacon,  De  Augmentis  Scientiarum,  Book  2,  ch.  13. 
Compare  the  similar  reflections  in  his  Advancement  of  Learning,  2.  4.  I : 
"  The  use  of  this  feigned  history  hath  been  to  give  some  shadow  of  satis- 
faction to  the  mind  of  man  in  those  points  wherein  the  nature  of  things 
doth  deny  it,  the  world  being  in  proportion  inferior  to  the  soul  ;   by  reason 
whereof  there  is,  agreeable  to  the  spirit  of  man,  a  more  ample  greatness,  a 
more  exact  goodness,  and  a  more  absolute  variety,  than  can  be  found  in  the 
nature  of  things." 

11  10.     Figure  is  its  necessary  medium  of  communication.   Cf.  Shelley, 
Defense  4  27  ff. 

1115.     A  metrical  garb,  etc.     Cf.  Shelley,  Defense  8  8  ff. 

128.  Ninth  Iliad.     Probably  referring  to  Iliad  9.  449-453. 

129.  Nurse  of  Orestes.     ^Eschylus,  Choephorce  736-749. 

12  29.     Empedocles.      Cf.  Sidney,  Defense   3  18 :     "  So  Thales,  Empe- 
docles, and  Parmenides  sang  their  natural  philosophy  in  verses." 

13  2.    Neither  were  poets.    Cf.  Aristotle,  Poetics  1.8:  "For  if  they  set 
forth  the  principles  of  medicine  or  music  in  metre,  people  will  call  them 
poets,  though,  except  the  metre,  there  is  nothing  in  common  between 
Homer  and  Empedocles ;    the  one  should  be  called  a  poet,  the  other 
rather  a  physicist."     See  also  Sidney,  Defense  9  34—10  11. 

14  22.     Brambletye  House.    A  novel  by  Horace   Smith,  published  in 
1826. 

14  26.  Has  the  fidelity  of  history.  Chambers'  Cyclopcedia  of  English 
Literature  says  :  "  Some  of  its  descriptions  of  the  plague  in  London  were 
copied  too  literally  from  Defoe." 

14  29.  Incidents.  Printed  "  Incident "  in  the  Essays  Historical  and 
Critical. 

17  19.     Ladurlad,  Thalaba,  and  Roderick.     Characters  respectively  of 
The  Curse  of  Kehama,  Thalaba  the  Destroyer,  and  Roderick,  the  Last  of 

the  Goths. 

18  l.     Old  Robin  Gray.     By  Lady  Anne  Barnard,  d.  6th  May,  1825. 
The  ballad  was  composed  about  1771. 

18  5.  Milman's  Martyr  of  Antioch,  a  closet  drama  founded  on  the 
legend  of  St.  Margaret,  was  published  in  1822  ;  Bernard  Barton's  Dream 
in  his  Poems,  1820. 

18  26.  "  Sic  dicet  ille,"  etc.  Cicero,  Orator  40.  137  :  "  He  will  speak 
in  such  a  way  as  to  present  one  and  the  same  thing  under  different  aspects, 


Notes.  33 

and  to  rest  and  dwell  upon  the  same  thought."  The  true  reading  is  some- 
what different  from  that  in  our  text  :  "  Sic  igitur  dicet  ille,  quern  expetimus, 
ut  verset  saepe  multis  modis  eadem  et  una  in  re  hsereat  in  eademque  com- 
moretur  sententia  ;"  so  quoted  in  Quintilian  9.  I.  41,  except  that  una  and 
in  are  transposed. 

21  13.      Tityrus's  stags.      Alluding  to  Virgil's  First  Eclogue,  59  :    "  So 
first  in  air  the  nimble  stags  shall  feed  .  .  .  ,  ere  from  my  heart  his  look 
shall  pass  away." 

22  27.     Moral  character.     Cf.  Shelley,  Defense  42  33  :    "  The  greatest 
ppets  have  been  men  of  the  most  spotless  virtue." 

2316.     Partial  and  limited  poetry.     Cf.  Shelley,  Defense  43  4-7. 
24  22.     Lucretius.     Cf.  Shelley,  Defense  24  4. 

24  25.     Revealed  Religion.     Cf.  Shelley,  Defense  5  25  ff.,  6  27  ff.,  10  8, 
14  2  ff.,  25  20  ff.,  26 13  ff.,  27  21  ff.,  37  32  ff. 

25  29—26  9.     He  will  be  obscure,  etc.     It  is  natural  to  think  of  Robert 
Browning  in  reading  this  paragraph. 

27  20.     The  mere  artist.     Is  this  a  prophetic  characterization  of  any 
living  poet  ? 

28  5.    Echo  of  the  inward  music.    Cf.  Shelley,  Defense  9  32  :  "  Being 
the  echo  of  the  eternal  music." 

20.     Through  the  imagination.     Cf.  Shelley,  Defense  14  10  ff. 


INDEX   OF   PROPER   NAMES. 


^Eschylus  2  14,  5  23,  7  29. 
Agamemnon  5  9,  23. 
Choephorce  12  9. 
Prometheus  3  13. 
Thebce  (Seven  against  Thebes} 

319. 

See  also  Antigone,  Cassandra, 
Hermes,  Nereids,  Oceanus, 
Orestes. 

Agamemnon  6  2,  18. 
Alcestis  3  27. 
Antigone  3  4,  21,  32. 
Aristotle  1  3, 4,  20,  4  26,  32,  5  11,  8  4, 
26,  9  29,  21  26. 

Bacchse  7  12. 

Bacchus  6  26,  7  17. 

Bacon  10  6. 

Baillie,  Joanna  18  8. 

Barton,  Bernard  18  6. 

Brambletye  House  14  22. 

Burns  23  6. 

Byron  12  27,  18  2,  20,  21  2, 16,  24  10. 

Childe  Harold  19  9,  21  11. 

Corsair  21  3. 

See  also  Childe  Harold,  Myrrha, 
Sardanapalus. 

Cadmus  7  9. 
Campbell  18  7,  19  7. 
Cassandra  6  12. 


Charles  II.  14  24. 
Childe  Harold  21  11. 
Cicero  18  29. 
Clytemnestra  3  27,  16  30. 
Cowper  18  3,  23  25,  28  7. 
Crabbe  20  5. 

Dryden  24  3. 

Edgeworth,  Miss  14  28,  15  5,  30. 
Empedocles  12  29. 
Euripides  2  22,  3  26,  7  26,  8  15, 16  31, 
2810. 

Baccha  5  10,  6  25. 
Electra  3  27. 
Hippolytus  3  31. 
Orestes  3  30. 
Ph&nisstz  3  32. 

See  also  Alcestis,  Antigone, 
Bacchae,  Bacchus,  Cadmus, 
Clytemnestra,  Ion,  Medea, 
Pentheus,  Phaedra,  Tiresias. 

Gibbon  24  20. 
Gray  18  9. 

Hermes  3  17. 
Homer  23  31,  28  12. 

See  also  Phoenix. 
Hume  24  19. 


35 


Index  of  Proper  Names. 


lago  16  29. 
Ion  3  29. 

Juvenal  19  22. 

Ladurlad  17  19. 
Lady  Macbeth  17  1. 
Lammermoor,  Bride  of  17  7. 
Lucretius  24  22. 

Medea  3  28. 

Milman  18  4. 

Milton  18  5, 10,  23  25,  28  4. 

//  Penseroso  13  12. 

V  Allegro  13  12. 
Moore  28  6. 
Myrrha  21  23. 

Neoptolemus  3  9. 
Nereids  3  17. 

Oceanus  3  15. 
CEdipus  3  4,  5  20,  9  9. 
Old  Robin  Gray  18  1. 
Ophelia  17  7. 
Oppian  13  1. 
Orestes  12  9. 

Pentheus  6  27,  7  10. 
Phaedra  3  30. 
Philoctetes  3  10. 
Phoenix  12  8. 
Polynices  3  5. 
Pope  13  22,  27  21. 

Richard  (III.)  16  28. 
Roderick  1720,  26. 
Romeo  and  Juliet  17  6. 
Rousseau  24  20. 

Sardanapalus  21  23. 

Scott,  Walter  14  26,  21  25, 23  29,  28  8- 


Ivanhoe  20  32. 

Kenilworth  20  31. 

Old  Mortality  20  32. 

Peveril  of  the  Peak  14  22. 

Waverley  Novels  20  23. 

See  also  Lammermoor,  Bride  of. 
Shakspeare  12  16,  21  25,  23  30. 

Hamlet  19  30. 

Macbeth  19  30. 

Othello  19  30. 

Richard  (///.)  19  30. 

See  also  lago,  Lady  Macbeth, 
Ophelia,  Richard,  Romeo  and 
Juliet. 
Sophocles  2  17,  3  2,  7  28,  28  9. 

•Ajax  2  19. 

CEdipus  at  Colonus  2  18,  3  1. 

CEdipus  the  King  5  10,  14,  28, 
6  24,  8  2,  9  13. 

Philoctetes  2  20,  3  2,  7. 

See  also  Antigone,  Neoptole- 
mus,    CEdipus,    Philoctetes, 
Polynices,  Ulysses. 
Southey  17  17, 19,  23  26. 

See  also   Ladurlad,  Roderick, 

Thalaba. 
Spenser  23  25. 

Thalaba  17  20. 
Thomson  13  8. 
Tiresias  7  9. 
Tityrus  21  13. 

Ulysses  3  8. 

Virgil  13  22,  24  2,  27  32. 
See  also  Tityrus. 

Wordsworth  23  26. 
Young  18  20. 


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